Black Hills

turned at the door. “You matter. Deal with it.”
    He bit into his sandwich as he strode to his truck.
    She was right about the ground rules, he thought. Most things worked better with rules, or guidelines anyway. There was right and there was wrong, and a big, wide mass of gray between them. Still, it was best to know which shades of gray worked for any particular situation.
    She was entitled to set some rules, as long as she understood he’d be exploring the gray.
    He ate his egg sandwich as he drove the looping road to the gate, and setting rules, guidelines, and the mystery of just what he wanted from Lil aside, he mentally arranged what he had to do that day.
    Stock to be fed, stalls mucked out. Then getting his grandparents out on horseback would be an accomplishment. He needed to get into town for some supplies, do some paperwork at the storefront. If they didn’t have customers who wanted a trail guide, he’d get Gull to work on some of the tack.
    He wanted to work out a basic plan, cost analysis, and feasibility of adding pony rides to the business. Take a few horses like Little Sis, he mused, walk them around a fenced track for a half hour, and you could . . .
    His mind switched off business and to alert.
    The corpse was draped over the gate. Below it, blood stained the hardpack of snow. A couple of vultures were already pecking for breakfast while more circled overhead.
    Coop hit the horn to scatter the birds as he slowed to scan the trees and brush, the road beyond the gate. In the dim, early light, his headlights washed over the dead wolf, turned its dead eyes eerily green.
    Coop leaned over, opened his glove compartment, and took out his 9mm and his flashlight. Climbing out of the truck, he shined the light on the ground. There were footprints, of course. His own would be among them from the night before, when he’d opened the gate.
    He saw none he judged as newer than his own on the inside. That, he supposed was something. Still, he walked in his own tracks to reach the wolf.
    It had taken two shots—one mid-body, one head—to bring the wolf down, as far as Coop could see on a visual. The body was cold to the touch, and the small blood pool frozen.
    It told him the message had been delivered several hours before.
    He flipped the safety back on his gun, pushed it into his pocket. As he dug for his phone he heard the hum of an approaching car. Though he doubted the messenger would be back so soon, or travel in a vehicle, Coop slid his hand into his pocket and over the grip of his gun.
    The light had gone misty gray with dawn, and in the eastern sky the red rose and spread. He walked back, cut his headlights, and standing at the gate saw his instinct had been right. The four-wheel drive slowed. He held up a hand to stop them, to keep them as far back from the gate as he could manage when they made the turn.
    He recognized the man who got out the passenger side by sight, but not name. “Keep back from the gate,” Coop ordered.
    Tansy climbed out the other side and stood holding the door handle as if for support. “Oh, my God.”
    “You want to keep back,” he repeated.
    “Lil.”
    “She’s fine,” Coop told Tansy. “I just left her up at the cabin. I need you to call the sheriff—Willy. Get back in the car and call. Tell him somebody left a dead wolf at the gate. Two bullet holes that I can see. I want you to wait in the car, don’t touch anything. You.” He pointed to the man.
    “Uh, Eric. I’m an intern. I just—”
    “In the car, stay. The vultures come back, hit the horn. I’m going to go get Lil.”
    “We’ve got some volunteers coming in this morning.” Tansy took a breath that huffed out a fog, then another, shorter, smoother. “And the other interns. They should be here soon.”
    “If they come before I get back, keep them away from the gate.”
    He got back into his truck, backed up until he came to one of the pull-offs. He did a quick three-point turn and pushed for speed.
    She was already outside, standing on the path that led from her cabin to the offices. Her hands moved to her hips even as the scowl moved over her face.
    “What now? Mornings are busy times around here.”
    “You need to come with me.”
    The scowl faded. She didn’t question him. There was enough in the tone, in his eyes to tell her there was trouble.
    “Get a camera,” he called out when she started toward the truck. “Digital. Make it fast.”
    Again, she asked no questions but set off